08 December 2021 | Gold Coast Queensland
20 November 2021 | Southport Yacht Club
17 November 2021 | The Great Sandy Straights
13 November 2021 | Coral Sea
06 November 2021 | Keppel Bay Marina
28 October 2021 | Hamilton Island heading south
13 October 2021 | Hook Island
07 October 2021 | Marlin Marina Cairns
01 October 2021 | Lizard Island
24 September 2021 | Crystalbrooke Marina Port Douglas
17 September 2021 | Low Islet and Port Douglas
10 September 2021 | Cairns
03 September 2021 | Fitzroy Island
19 August 2021 | Magnetic Island
13 August 2021 | Sailing north door Magnetic Island
04 August 2021 | Hayman Island
28 July 2021 | The Heart of the Reef
21 July 2021 | Whitsunday Islands
Turning With The Tide
01 November 2024 | Lady Musgrave Island
Jenny Gaskell | Picture perfect until the storm
We had enjoyed blissful days of aqua perfection, snorkelling the coral gardens within Lady Musgrave Island. We strolled around the flat rock formations, offering great protection for the beach made of coral and shells. This was also an ideal platform for sundowners with anyone else who might surface with an esky at 5 o'clock.
Since it is turtle nesting season, we follow the mumma tracks from water to the dunes to view the many nests lined up above the high water line. Wanna hope they can run and swim fast, I thought to myself hearing the squeaks and squarks of birdlife in the mangroves and remembering the reef sharks in the rock pools nearby. You can't fight with nature, I guess. šš»āāļøI should know that much by now.
By the end of our stay we relocated from anchor to a vacated mooring ball, making for an easy departure the next morning. There's enough to navigate when leaving this enclosed reef, without worrying if our chain could be wrapped around a coral bommie, which can happen after days of turning with the tides.
This mooring ball we picked up clearly states it is good for our length and weight, but was only guaranteed for up to 35knot winds. We sniggered, like Muttley the dog not expecting such. "Oh this will be perrrrfectt. We can rest easy tonight"! He Who Hums call out from the bow.
But by the end of dinner, our wind indicator was pushing 32knots and hovering. Listening intently to the high and low pitch of the wind wizzing through the rigging, a for-warning with each blow. Our awareness was the load on the mooring line tightening now like a noose around our neck as Condesa yanked and yawled blowing about in the big gusts. One can only hope that an equally as big concrete block is secured to the atoll floor, to keep us off the reefs that surround us.
Out of nowhere, the sound of 25 weighted bowling balls were dumped heavily and rumbled across the night sky. Startled we retired to the cosy aft cabin to watch the show. Both propped with hands under our chins looking out through large hatch windows, level with the water - the stage was set. The light show fired up with a loud clap. Boats we weren't aware of lit up like ghosts, leaving an outline hanging in pitch black until the next clap. The seas were rushing past like a rapid. White caps were break-dancing less than 3 feet in front of us, and without warning a huge splash as if something very large turned defying the force of nature. The show went on from all aspects without interval for the next hour or two, unsure of actual curtain call.
We slept well....no nightmares to speak of, only my concerns for the baby turtles and the pending 150mtr sprint and swim-leg they have ahead of them early December. I feel for those lil turtles, I hope the sea gods keep an eye out for them too!
A new day on top deck, clear skies, sparkling surrounds. It was a full tide so we released the trusty mooring line and drifted out through the narrow passage. We threw the sails up catching the sun and wind, I watched the gulls gliding effortlessly from off shore. Only yesterday I was seeing them as predators, today they are part of the big beautiful picture.
We are off, headed for Bundaberg and who knows what tonight will bring? But Condesa will take rest in the marina and we will be dining at Baltimore's restaurant - if you're looking for us. š¤
"This is livin Barry" š„°
DOT..DOT…~DASH
24 October 2024 | Long beach GK
Jenny Gaskell | Crazy mixed up weather from all directions
There is talk about the dash in your life; to make it worthwhile, as fulfilling and rich as you can. You know, the dash between your date of birth and your end date. THAT DASH!
Last week we put a dot to our sailing and made a dash to a magnificent wedding in Toowoomba. Shoes on, bags packed going from rags to riches.
On the way we made a stop into Brisbane for some family loving from the big and small people. Up the mountain range, via Forest Hill to see a special friend in her new flower studio then onto the weekend wedding celebrations filled with good friends. And before we had time to come down off the high, we were back up in a plane, on the trusty round-the-world bus back to our final stop Keppel Bay Marina -ahhhh home sweet home - back onboard the patiently waiting Condesa.
Next on the agenda was to sort the dying house batteries and restock the skeletal galley shelves. Yes, you got it, all done via another 50 cent bus ride into Emu Park. We are definitely getting our moneys worth, making new friends heading the same direction in life.
The next day we reconnected with old friends, share a drink with our neighbour who help with the heavy job of new batteries onā¦and the old off the boat. (26kg x 4) š„µ
Weather check done.....then we make another dash, this time from the safety of the Marina back out into the open waters off the Capricorn Coast. (It's been a while)
This is where the dash gets a tad hectic. Condesa poked her nose from behind the rock wall going from cruisy to feisty. Ahoy 35knots...jib sails up ...1.5mtr swell and off we zoom, express to Long Beach to find shelter from the wind.
It was more of a shake up than what was meant to be a "shake down". This was a rude reminder I'm not playing ladies anymore, but the beautiful memory of what was last week celebration is clinging to us both.
As usual, time disappears quickly and the sun sets. I hear he who hums on top deck securing sails and lines. I make quick dash up the companion way to compare the sky against the storm alert that is coming over the marine radio. It's an every day thing I know, but twilight always takes my breath away. Not sure if it's the twinkling boat lights against the threatening sky edged with the last sliver of daylight?.....The remarkable stillness after the invigorating sail?.... Or it could be the transformation from day to the uncertainty of a stormy night. Whatever it is these all become part of the dash and we don't take it for granted.
Good or bad, hit or miss we are poised, prepared and happily making the dash earn its keep.
Get Wrecked
14 October 2024 | Great Keppel Island
Jenny Gaskell | Wild and Windy
Just reporting in!
As soon as we reached the Southern Gateway to the Great Barrier Reef we threw the anchor and sailed no further. We have ducked back and forth from Great Keppel to Yeppoon, and why wouldn't you. Yeppoon claims to be a place where...and I quote- 'Live out your stranded fantasy's'. Humph! That'll do us.
We are stranded of sorts. Condesa's house batteries are wrecked eg: not taking full charge, unlike us š¤
We have literally been riding waves in the Keppel Bay marina (for real!). And if you know the saying about blowing a dog off a chain? Well it's been close to that. Each day I walk past Lucy's boat (not sure of the owners name š¤). Lucy is a Red Kelpie, I fear she's blown away but I soon see the pointy ears pop up from her padded bed on forward deck when I pass. Her green eyes saying it all as she ducks for cover again. No words needed.
We sought out Little Johnny Car Rental where He Who Hums spends the next 15-20 explaining how and why he should rent us a car from his yard of mix matched relics. Hell, I even hear he who hums says "ok well give us your bus then?". "Nah" Little Johnny says "I got nothin til tomorra". Throw in a few dad jokes here and there. š Umm so Johnny ...tomorrow is good šš»āāļø Look, people I can preempt next year's script, nothing changes except Little Johnny will be 85yrs next year. Then he says "do I know ya? Have ya had a car from me before?" That's when we know we are getting closer to a deal.
So Rocky is classic old school town with magnificent buildings. It's called Rocky for the obvious craggy reasons. We have chugged lil Johnny's old Pajero up cliff faces, looking from every ocean vantage point. The panoramic view from The Singing Ship, sounding more like a pub choir in this blow, we see white caps and sickly green-gray waters that have been stirred with the opposing winds.
Yeppoon - the aboriginal word meaning "where waters meet". Referring here to the Ross Creek and the waves we sail.
Our alternative stomping ground when weather permits is Great Keppel and that name comes from Cook's Admiral - August Keppel.
Anyway enough tit bits just letting you know we haven't blown away completely and the job at hand is new batteries so Condesa can keep our household utilities up and running.
Speaking of up and running, we plan to jump on the back of a Northerly or two and ride it all the way to our next anchorage.
This years sailing season has been different to most but getting to see more of Australia's outback and the quaint coastal communities. And what a hoot it's been!
-That reminds me of another street sign I saw in my travels around here, which read... 'GIVE A HOOT!'
-But that was more about encouraging people to not litter this little town of stranded fantasies. So demure...very respectful š¤
Wherever the Wind Bows Us
05 October 2024 | Barcaldine
Jenny Gaskell | Windy on the east Coast
We sailed into Keppel Bay Marina ahead of the strong coastal wind forecast and we decided to āhead for the hillsā. ššØ
So, with a hire car and a wish list, we took this opportunity to amble through the Capricorn Region of central Queensland and appreciate our country and some family history.
There we were, like a lonely little tumbleweed rolling through desolate towns. If you blinked youād miss some settlements, overgrown and nothing seems to have altered since the first train rolled in. Oh, except for the Jericho community, we did a U-ey to get a closer look at the drive-in movies, the lawns dotted with whites posts still patiently holding the box speakers. The rear stalls housing the clunky old projector and the canvas seating that connected us to the 60s/70s.
Back on the road and through more settlements you would never know existed if it wasnāt for the sign posts. Bluff, Comet, Alpha popped up and quickly disappeared along the 650klm route from the coast to the country. This path has been well travelled by stockmen, drovers and shearers who stop with their swags and dogs for god knows how long, probably years.
The Capricorn Highway is straight as an arrow, stretching west as far as the eye can see, further than the kilometres of coal-trains ghosting along-side us and well beyond the Great Dividing Range radiating rays of light into the distance sky. With the perfect temperature and fresh air we cross open floodplains, see acres of rich soil, followed by neat cotton fields and farming stations. This escapade of ours quickly transforms into something so beautiful and quintessentially Australian. Such a surprising ātree changeā for a few days.
Story time
Apparently in 1861 a European commander to Native Police - Frederick Walker lead a search for Burke and Wills over the land of Iningai. Eventually that stomping ground became āBarcaldineā, with property lots up for sale by 1885.
Barcaldine is where youāll find the ātree of Knowledgeā, but thatās another story. More importantly itās where youāll find āsalt of the earthā people, and where He Who Hums grandmotherās family migrated in early 1900ās. Imagine that at age 13! Iām sure it was extremely difficult for her (and her family) to settle in. Growing up in hot, semi arid and sometimes wet lands, working their fingers to the bone on the land, after having also endured the sail from England to Australia! š¤Æ
Eventually Vera met a shearer named Holburke, married and the Gaskell family-tree grew with the addition of 3 sons (yes the youngest was Brian). Iām sad to scribe, it also had them lay the middle child to rest at age 3 1/2 yrs after a fire in a shed. The family hoping he would not be forgotten, despite their leaving the town and never speaking of their personal tragedy. šš»
Fast forward to today, we met the wonderful publican of the grand Hotel, who kindly helped us find his plot via her own well mapped records of the Barcaldine cemetery. If it wasnāt for her efforts, we could very well still be out there searching for the gold scribed headstone Brian bought and lovingly placed only 30years ago, after Veraās (his mother) passing at aged 99yrs.
We returned home to Condesa , feeling fulfilled for many reasons, apart from paying our respects to little Trevor Gaskellās grave. We also fully embraced the history, the heritage buildings, well the ones that survived many fires in this town. We traced names and dates and found relatives photos in the museum. We enjoyed the company of locals and listened to the stories of men of the land passing through. Actually, there were possibly more gems in that one town than sapphires found by fossicking in the well trodden fields nearby.
If the massive coal industry hasnāt make them rich, then the tough cotton-picking spirit of these people will.
Comparing our west bound trek to 100years back imagining the big square riggers full of immigrants offloaded then put on a train out into the middle of a foreign world (aka nowhere). What doesnāt kill you makes you stronger has to be true.
They helped create our lucky country. How blessed we are to live in this day and age. To venture across land and over seas with more ease and comforts than ever imagined. Now we are sitting here with everything at our fingertips, adding to our two bobs worth to the family story.
Happy as Pigs in Mud
27 September 2024 | Queensland coastline
Jenny Gaskell | Fine
He who hums springs an idea-
āHey, letās take the dingy ashore!ā Luring me with a lovely strip of sand to walk but really there was a job to refill the fuel tanks on terra firma behind his glee.
Most of that sounded good to me except I am the funnel holder the sort that splashes fuel around before going down the tube, no matter how hard one tries. š
This I call a blue job and hoped it wouldnāt eat into our walk time. I can see the sun is already dousing the said beach a soft glow as I survey the distant sand whilst deciding, knowing full well the decision has been made.
Ok off we go then. Total trust in his plan to land on the beach. Merrily putting along right up to where he sees the clear shallows, lifts the motor up and steps overboard, like usual. What happens next is disbelief, he drops well beyond the 2ft of water. I immediately check in my side, and see definite shallows?š¤ He struggles to lift one leg only to reveal one black muddy deck shoe heavily covered, like a clay Wellie filled to the brim. š Shit Johnā my mother would say, so I too exclaim. āIāll get you in closer so we can pull the boat up on harder sandā, and I agree! I wait for he who hums who drudges along with me in tow, like heās labouring up Mt Calvery, dropping to his knees every few steps until he can go on no further. Next minute we have a āpink versionā of the quicksand playout. Let me tell you, squeals do not help the energy required to get oneself out of the mess we are now both in. š« The only positive and I was searching, was that people pay big money for a mud bath to soften their skin.
Itās all a blur, I made certain to block the next hour out. I get flashes of our dingy suctioned to the very mud that gave zero leverage, let alone pull towards the direction of the water. The ol saying, ātime waits for no oneā is playing out here. The water tantalisingly close and like some sort of sick joke, visibly retreating each time we reach it.
Meanwhile, I was expecting miracles from my one square of chux cleaning cloth I diligently use to keep my mind amused whilst taking a breather. Itās all very funny ā¦..now.
Of course thereās no one around to throw us a line. I wouldnāt even mind being personally towed across the mudflats at this point, desperation was sneaking in. I suspect the one vessel I see has the binoculars on us, hysterical no doubt. We are totally helping them pass what was a low key afternoon in this godforsaken part of the island.
A new day, we sailing towards the mainland and weāre offered the only dock left in that marina for our size. The friendly receptionist mentioned Condesa will be on the bottom at low tide, but donāt worry itās soft silt so sheāll refloat at high tide. We look at each other with slight PTSD, as we know the silt she speaks of but she made it sound soā¦ā¦.benign. I wondered if 43ton of Condesa would suction to the bottom. He who Hums clearly thought of worst case scenario, busily tying Condesa to the top of the dock pylon with big arse lines to keep her upright. One never wants to wake up leaning on a complete stranger does one? And that neighbour Iām lookin at may crumble under the pressure.
Th th the, th th the - Thatās all folks! š·š·
Dia Straights
19 September 2024 | The Sandy Straits
Jenny Gaskell | Picture perfect (mostly)
Dear diaryā¦.
We are stranded! On anchor close to Kāgari Island but still 16Nm from my favourite stopover, Kingfisher Bay resort.
Yes! We are stuck with a mechanical hiccup, stranded, going no where, until help arrives.
~~~~~~~++++++~~~~~~~~~
The next day - resigned to the fact that we were there to stay until our problem was resolved, one way or another.
I was doing dishes, the aroma of my hearty chicken soup filling the galley whenā¦ (I kid you not) hundreds of birds in a flock passed so close I could have reached out and touched them. So surprised I had to just take it all in. Privy to this mass migration of black beauty framed perfectly by the porthole. Sadly, He Who Hums missed it as he had already set off in his dingy. He was a man with his own mission, eager to collect mechanical help from miles away.
What transpired last night ? Well firstly and most importantly we successfully navigated through the Sandy Straits. We had just 2ft nashing their teeth at us in the shallowest part of our otherwise, āfull moon and full tide journey of the heartā. I note He Who Hums doesnāt hum when it is shallow, but I suspect youād hear his heart pounding. I was giving the running commentary of depts and direction, willing for the depths to be as per GPS data. There was no one else moving about, just us. Condesaās navigation lights were luminous against the eerie backdrop for the hours it took to navigate the straits.
Once anchored safely, we could enjoy a hot meal and shower. The generator ceased and so total silence reined all round. Ahhhhhh, we were all set to retire turning off the last of the galley lights when I realised a sound of trickling water was coming the bilge.
It took him/us time to work out exactly how long, how much and from where Condesa managed to purge salt water. Even with my limited knowledge of mechanics, I know a salt water backwash is never a good sign. I had my head in and amongst the motor with him, following his torch light, to be of some support. Calls were made, and eventually the cause was identified. A bung was then secured firmly enough for us to get some sleep.
This non-syphon valve situation would have been catastrophic, if it happened mid Wide Bay Bar crossingā¦OR anywhere throughout our Sandy Strait passage. We had waited for this new moon that gifts us the super-tide required for our 2.7mtre draft. Kingfisher Resort was our destination. Wait, back up - Imagine navigating shallows without a motor! #yikes š
Life is one big adventure. Any boater past or present, can testify that problem solving is one skill you must have! Quickly followed by another, which is ā¦to be ok without having the answers!š Or how about just keeping your āchin upā. Or āfake it till you make itā, and any other attributes it takes to travel around unscathed out here and still see the beauty that comes from all directions.
I watched those birds all spearheaded a direct line for the island, to safely settle in for the night after travelling for miles. As we now are settled, minus - āspearheading the landā bit. š
Itās GOODnight from us, with one ear listening out.
PS. The āsaltwater gateā mission was rectified with big tools and (you got it) even more skills and expertise.Thanks Daniel for coming to our aid. Love your work.
Condesa is out yet again, flying under the radar and heading north!š„°šš»
The Calm before the Storm
11 September 2024 | The Coral Sea off the Sunshine Coast
Jenny Gaskell | Stormy night
Is there always a calm before a storm? Well yes, but there can also be some Hellter Skelter. We are 13 hours in, not counting the 5 hours of sailing prep before leaving Southport, so a bit of fatigue was setting in.
1AM Wednesday (always in the dark) We werenāt keeping tabs on our breaks, but I noticed our tag teaming for watch seemed to come around fast. Time to put the kettle on and make some supper! I do a hand over to He Who Hums and point out the green dot on the radar screen, a yacht 2NM ahead was the only traffic around before heading to the galley.
The midnight snack was done without any fuss, no holding on or being tossed about the galley. I heard He Who Hums scurry across the top decks to shut the hatch. Yep, he did mention something about rain clouds looming. A bit smug with the ease in which I returned with the tray of our āpick me upā supper not spilling a drop.
Clearly, this is where I missed identifying the calm before this storm.
Back at the helm, I hear a few big splotches of rain begin. Our supper had barely been touched when I first saw the horizon, our tea and my centre of gravity instantaneously take a dive to the left. The noise, wind, speed and the cloud mass on the radar all escalated rapidly. Condesa had responded! To cut back the intensity we needed to let out the sails, as it was too late now and too dark to drop any of the 4 overpowered sails. The horse had bolted so to speak.
Oh, about that yacht! Where did he go? The other question is - Did he drop sails and pace? If so, he could actually be closer to us than before? We will never know as the storm was massive and clouds have now devoured what was left of the horizon too. Absolutely nothing and no one to see here, just sheets of pelting rain.
Over the following two hours the cockpit canopy was peppered hard, adding unavoidable drips to our once warm, dry enclosed area.
The silver lining was the intense storm travelled the same path and eventually cleared a patch of sky directly overhead. So we watched that gap in the clouds on the instruments, instead of the lil āyacht that wasā. I was hoping the clouds wouldnāt build into a whirl wind, trapping us in the eye. It had me remembering the super cells and what they were capable of, not to mention the recent waterspout on the news. The dark can do that to your mind.
2.45 AM
Finally the coast was clear! The radar revealing the one and only green dot again. Yes the next question had been answered, it was the ālost yachtā, moving ahead of us at the same pace, thankfully. We donāt want to hit whales or other vessels in the dark.
We were back to normalcy, sailing a steady 7 knts after peaking a furious 10knts with 25 knts wind speed.
3.30AM
Someone (and you can guess who) once said āyouāre not sailing if you donāt have a wet bum!ā
We change into dry clothes and resumed our resting positions.
It was time for another cuppa, a soothing camomile this time. Safe and sound again with just 3 hours until sunrise. šš»
Footnote - if you were to ask Condesa, she would say it was easy peazy! She spent her years in windy San Fransisco bay and it was nothing for all 43 ton of her her to be healed over gunwales in the water every race meet. Just sayin!